Lie To Me
by Ulquiorra-isn't-emo
Summary: Calypso has been putting up defenses and fake personas all her life. When she meets someone who sees right to her core, will she be able to handle it? Iggy/OC and Fax or Max/OC. Not sure yet. T for graphic romance.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Took me a while to come up with a title… I was debating over 'Layer by Layer' and some other ones. 'Layer by Layer' sounded too suggestive, though. I'm such a hypocrite… I dislike stories with OC's, and here I am, writing a story with OC's. Grr, whatever. Bear with me and my funny OC names. Pronounce them any way you like, because I'm probably pronouncing them wrong too. I've noticed I've made a habit out of making painfully short first chapters. Oh well. Here is a painfully short first chapter. Oh, and I apologize for all the profanities. This character has a vulgar mind… Sorry. Character development, you understand. And another character has an accent, so when it says 'uh' that's synonymous for 'of.'**

**Post Max, Iggy/OC and Max/OC or Fax, not sure.**

**Claiming the dissing: I do not own Maximum Ride, nor does this story have anything to do with the TV series Lie To Me.**

Lie To Me

I pulled my hand away from my abdomen, refusing to look at the crimson liquid staining my fingers. I rolled over on my back in an attempt to ease some of the pain from the gashes on my stomach. Gritting my teeth, I stopped myself from crying out. 'Cause that's just the stubborn mule I am.

I laughed grimly at myself. The action made my wounds throb painfully. Stupid dog things. What the hell were they, anyway? At first they looked like hot guys, then they grew claws and snouts and got a hell of a lot hairier. Why didn't they just kill us? Now I get to die slowly. Wonderful. Like, FML.

That's what I've been saying my entire life. FML. And I've had a good freaking reason for it, too. I've had a shit life. I would have rather lived in hell then live my fucked-up life. Guess that's how I ended up lying on the ground, bleeding to death, in some forest in the middle of freaking nowhere.

Arran wheezed slightly, snapping me out of my depressing thoughts. The brawny, blond boy was probably lying a few feet away from me. We had collapsed after the fight, still yelling cuss words after the bastards. I think they broke his arm and messed his leg up pretty bad.

"You still alive, Calypso?" His normally strong, confident voice was barely audible. It was kind of sweet that he cared enough to ask. I mean, we had just met.

"Maybe. I don't think heaven would hurt this much," I grunted, motioning to our ragged cuts. Damn it, ouch. That hurt.

He let out a strangled chuckle, ending with a rasp. "Heaven's the last place we'd be. We're all going to hell."

"Not if I can help it!"

We both twisted our heads to look at Corentin. He had a jagged slash from his left eyebrow to his chin, curving around his eye. His side was bleed excessively. A small pool of red was leaking onto the grass. We probably looked just as bad as he did.

"Come here, one uh you. I'mna give you yer last rights or wha'ever. Let th' big man in th' sky know I'mma good kid," he said weakly, probably dead serious.

"Cory, I think you screwed all your chances of getting to heaven at seven years old," I coughed, trying not to choke on air and die. "When you spray painted 'dumbass' on your teacher's car and stole her wallet."

"I was a zesty kid. Lots uh spirit, my parents always tol' me." His voice slurred as his mind shut down. I hoped to God he wasn't dead. There'd be no one to tell pointless stories or rant about nothing.

Arran gasped in a breath, and his breathing slowed down sluggishly. _This is it_, I thought_. We're gonna die here._

_S'not so bad_, my more positive side put in. _It's a forest with lots of pretty trees, and it's not even cold!_

Except that I'm bleeding to death. Some people have arguments with their inner demons. I have to put up with my internal saints.

Hushed voices drifting through the trees interrupted my mental debate. Leaves crunched under feet that paced quietly towards us. The tones raised in pitch as we came into view. I tried to push myself up to fight this new threat. It wasn't the dog-breaths. They had gruffer voices than these new people. I managed to get to my feet, swaying. My vision was blacking out at the edges. Three figures emerged from the trees, one dark and two lighter ones. I couldn't tell what was what anymore.

_Damn. If only I could see._ The world started tilting from side to side. _Stop roller coasting, goddammit!_ I raised my fists in front of me, averting my eyes from the blood on them. The lightest of the figures took a slow step towards me. I shifted my weight forward, ready to take a swing. Suddenly, the dirt rushed up to my face. I slammed to the earth on my shoulder, wincing at the pain that shot through my entire body.

Gentle hands pushed me onto my back. They ghosted over my cuts, assessing the damage. Who the hell ...? I cracked my eyes open. I could see more clearly now, but there was a midget inside my head, repeatedly battering the inside of my skull with a club.

"What hurts?" a kind, male voice asked me. I think I groaned, but I was too far gone to care about it.

A pair of stunning blue eyes set in an ivory-skinned face appeared above me. The gaze was locked on my left cheek, and full of concern I'd never seen directed at me before.

The last thing I remembered was mumbling a stupid pick-up line, then passing out.

"Hey there, gorgeous," I murmured languidly. "Where've you been all my life?"

I was gonna regret that when I woke up.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: DAAAAAAAAAAMMNNN ME! I'm sorry; I haven't posted anything for soooo long! (One week) *Falls to knees and begs for forgiveness* I'm trying to juggle multiple stories and art commissions… And I have no time to do anything on Mondays or Wednesdays… And a certain special someone is always running through my mind… Expect romance. That's the mood I'm in right now. Calypso is going to be a fun character…**

**I was going to write a Valentines Day fluffy, Miggy, romancy oneshot, but I got bored and didn't finish it. Tell if you guys want one, and I might start it up again.**

**Not even going to bother with the disclaimer.**

**Love ya'll,**

**~Ulquiorra-isnt-emo**

Lie To Me

Oh, my aching head, arms, legs, stomach... Basically my entire body. I kept my eyes shut. Opening them would require too much effort, and damn, was I tired. I would have been content to just lie there all day and sleep, but a realization hit me. I was lying on pillows. On a couch. And something smelled absolutely delicious.

All traces of drowsiness were violently crushed by a sudden rush of adrenaline. I pushed myself up, ready to jump into combat. Something this good had to be a charade. I was supposed to be dead. I was in the middle of a grove, bleeding severely. The thought made me look down at my stomach. The bottom half of my dirty, ratty shirt had been cut off, and was replaced by thick white bandages. My hands were wrapped in similar wide strips.

Someone grunted quietly. I whipped my head around to the source of the noise. Arran and Cory were both passed out on separate couches. Cory's thick curly black hair stuck up around his head bandage, and Arran's leg was tied to a splint. They had been patched pretty well up too, and looked thoroughly sedated.

I remembered the blue eyes right before I fell unconscious. Did they bring us here? I glanced around. We were in some sort of living room, I guess. There was a TV, the easy chairs, and a small coffee table. A petite kitchen was tucked away in one of the corners of the room. Several doors, all closed, led off into different parts of the house.

The smell drifted back to my nose. There was a plate of cookies on the little table, generating the mouth-watering scent. I ignored them. Despite the obvious hospitality, I wasn't sure whether we were in enemy territory or not. They could be trying to get us to trust them, then they would kill us. I didn't want to wander the house, in case a bunch of them jumped me. Let them show themselves first.

Turns out I didn't have to wait long. One of the doors quietly clicked open and a white blond head popped in. I recognized him by his aqua eyes and pale skin. My breathing spiked momentarily, but I put it down. My mouth automatically curled into a growl, my instinctive reaction to anything.

He paused, his gaze jumping from Arran to Cory to me. He took some tentative steps forward, his hands relaxed and at his sides. He was taller than me, probably stronger too, judging by the subtle muscles in his bare. My feet shifted of their own accord, steadying my body for an attack. I hadn't even realized I'd stood up.

"You can relax. We're not going to hurt you," the boy said quietly, turning in my direction.

I made a sound of disbelief. Yeah, cause I was born yesterday and I believed everything everyone says to me. Accepting what you hear gets you killed. "Bite me. Who's we?"

A small smirk curled his mouth. "You don't remember me, gorgeous? It's me and the rest of the flock."

I ignored his jab. The last word had caught my attention. "Flock?"

"Yes, flock. We're like you."

He stepped back carefully. Light-colored feathers started emerging from behind his back. They grew into a huge set of wings, maybe 13 or 14 feet across. I marveled at them, but kept it off my face. Any form of emotion was weakness.

"See?" The boy carefully tucked his wings back in. He looked at me almost expectantly.

Obligingly, I slid my folded wings through the slits in the back of my shirt and started unfurling them. I stretched them out to their full width, glad to be able to let them out. They were a bright red, like a robin's, matching the scarlet streaks in my pitch black hair.

"I assume you just spread your wings. You're like us," the boy murmured, his eyes fixed on my hairline.

'I assume?' What was that supposed to mean? He could see, couldn't he? It wasn't like my colorful wings were hard to spot. Suddenly, I noticed the way he moved. Cautiously, his arms held slightly out in front of him. His eyes always reacted to sound, not movement.

"Are you... blind?" I said it slowly, unsure of my own words. Whoa. Since when am I ever unsure of myself? Damn, this kid was wreaking hell on my brain.

"Yeah." That single word had so much bitterness in it, so much pent-up anger, I almost cringed. Then I remembered I was supposed to be a cold, emotionless being.

I had no response to the boy's answer. Sympathy was out of the question. He would just brush it off, most likely as he had any other time someone showed him pity. He struck me as the kind of person whose weaknesses made him even more independent and defensive.

Just like me.

I shoved the thought away. There was no way he was like me. No one was like me, no matter if they had wings too. No one could understand what I'd gone through.

The door swung open once more. A girl with dirty blond hair and a tall dark boy stepped in. Their eyes widened incrementally at my garish cardinal wings. The blind boy didn't turn around, keeping his sightless eyes on me. The other two stood at his side, glancing back and forth between us, sensing the tense atmosphere.

"Iggy? Something happen?" the girl asked, apparently addressing the blond boy. Iggy. What a weird name.

Iggy hesitated then twisted slightly to face her voice. "No. No, it's all good."

A groan interrupted the conversation. I saw Corentin twitch slightly as he woke up. His hand flew to his head bandage, and his eyes widened as he realized he same things I had when I came to. His body tensed, and he cast his gaze around, finally noticing me, standing and tight-lipped, facing the other three people.

"C'lypso? What's going on?" He sounded scared, like the twelve year old boy he really was. This situation was completely new to us. We'd always been hunted, never helped. It made us nervous when someone felt positively, or even not aggressive towards us.

"It's nothing, Cory. We'll take care of this."

Everyone's heads whipped around to face Arran. No one had heard him get up. He rubbed his left arm absently, standing up and taking a position next to me. With his shoulders back and feet spread wide apart, he looked more imitating than the boy with dark hair, who was slouching behind the others.

"Now, if you don't mind, would tell us exactly who you are and why you brought us here?"

I grudgingly admired him for his lack of sarcasm and absence of sadistic undertones. If it were me, every syllable would be loaded with death threats.

"Sure," the girl said stiffly, nodding authoritatively. She was obviously the leader. The way the two boys shifted and moved around her made it clear she was in charge. "As long as you tell us who you are and why you in the forest."

Arran nodded his affirmative before I could argue. I grit my teeth at his hasty decision. I was the head honcho here, right?

The blond girl motioned to herself then the dark boy. "I'm Max. This is Fang." She raised a hand in the sightless boy's direction. "That's Iggy."

The blind boy, Iggy, interrupted her. "We brought you here because I heard some fighting going on, and we went to investigate. We found you guys all cut up and dying, and we couldn't leave you there. I patched you guys up, and you've been sleeping for about eight hours."

"What if we wanted to die? We didn't ask you for your help," I snarled, twisting the last word and making it sound like a cuss.

The three kids exchanged glances. Well, the dark boy and the girl did.

Once again, the blond boy spoke for them. "That's stupid. You must have been in a lot of pain."

I laughed bitterly, not a trace of humor in the sound. I put as much ice and grimness into my voice as possible. "Hasn't anyone every told you? Life is pain, honey. Anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to sell you something."

The pale boy snorted. "I think I have heard that before. But that doesn't mean it's true. It would be just cruel for us to leave you there to die, whether you wanted to or not."

"I live cruelty. One more bit of it wouldn't hurt me," I growled, not bothering to control my temper. My wings twitched aggressively, jerking forward. I pressed my clenched fists to my sides, trying to not kill anything. This could end messily.

"You think you're the only one?" By then he was yelling, his voice raised to shouting level. "You think we haven't gone through that too?"

He yanked up the bottom of his shirt. At first I was like, _Whoa, what the hell?_ Then I noticed the long, jagged scar traced up his side. It looked deep and painful. He furiously thrust his arms forward, angling them so the old wounds caught the light.

"You see? You don't have to be such a self-centered _bitch._" He practically spit the last word in my face, anger twisting his porcelain features.

I stared calmly back at him. Then I raised my arm and slapped him across the face.


	3. DISCONTINUATION

**A/N: Hey guys. I'm having a major writer's block, and the ideas for this story just aren't coming. I'm sorry, I kinda left you guys at a cliff hanger, I know. Maybe I'll start it up again later. But for now, please don't expect any more chapters. They're not coming.**


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